


That's the Spirit

by RedKoyoteK



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Air Guitars, Angst, Childhood Friends, Christmas Fluff, Family Bonding, Family Dynamics, Family Feels, Fencing, Friendship, Gen, Ghost Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Sleepy Bois Inc, Ghost Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Ghost Wilbur Soot, Guitars, Happy Toby Smith | Tubbo, Happy TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Haunted Houses, Haunting, Near Death Experiences, Parental Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Past Character Death, Phil Needs a Hug, Power Outage, Sleepy Bois Inc Angst, Sleepy Bois Inc Fluff, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Snowball Fight, Tea, Technoblade & Phil Watson Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Twins Wilbur Soot & Technoblade
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:41:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29785926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedKoyoteK/pseuds/RedKoyoteK
Summary: Tommy and Tubbo arrived at an old snowed in house after a long drive through rural England, now stuck trying to survive boredom as they uncover what really happened at this place as well as reconcile with the fact that they'll have to share with more than just themselves now.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s), Technoblade & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. / Temporary Home

Tommy had carefully pressed his cheek to the fogged glass of the car door he was leaning against like a cold cement pillow, resting an elbow in between the nook of his big, ripping at the seams and edges car seat and the vehicle's metallic outer frame, jostling up gently at any speed-bump; suitcases and bags aplenty littered around him and resting by his feet, scattered throughout the car, rustling and sliding around through each laboured turn the car suddenly took.  
  
He'd silently given up on watching the road after buildings began to fade further from view and everything was slowly sprinkled over with a light coating of late afternoon snow on each silhouette of every tree, country home or other far-off structure.  
His phone died some long while ago leaving him silently grasping for any sort of entertainment, counting cars slowly becoming more of a hassle than a game when less cars had driven by, back-dropped by sprawling fields blocked away by simple, short picket fences; it slowly became a matter of remembering how many were already counted or even noticing when one suddenly drove by.

A burst of colour would have been appreciated for such a dull day and equally unappealing weather, and yet all that mirrored through the window, back to Tommy's vision as far as he could squint was white blanketing everything beneath it, a thick layer of snow had befallen the British countryside right before Christmas as if a final unnecessary gift; enough snow to spook an Englishman back inside to the comfort of blankets, radiators and easily accessible tea.  
  
He heard rustling beside him and shrugged it off as a suitcase before said rustling entity tapped his shoulder which effectively made him snap out of his daydreaming and quickly swerve his body around, knocking his knees into the driver's seat in front of him.  
"Tubbo! don't scare me like that bro-" he nodded his head in the way of, _'I'm about to swear and it's going to be good'_ but before he could mutter out a single syllable the driver, one of Tommy's far off relatives, an uncle to be exact, coughed into his hand cutting him off and causing him to fall back against his seat, a light bounce against the material following thereafter and chuckling from the back seats before another horrendous fade to silence.  
  


he folded his hands flush against his chest, looking over at big T as he yawned and stretched his arms out as far is he could in this tiny compact metal ball of a vehicle, if you could call it that. Said Uncle driving was one Tommy wasn't too familiar with and hardly appreciated the silence from, Days prior Tommy was comfortably sprawled over the kitchen island tapping out some bland assignment back home onto his laptop as Tubbo poured himself a cup of tea when Tommy's mother came downstairs excitedly announcing that one of Tommy's many Aunt's was moving out of her old home in some countryside village and moving back closer to the rest of the family, while Tubbo was sipping out of his cup and curiously looking over at the screen, Tommy couldn't have been less interested if he'd tried and simply shrugged as a response.  
his mother tapped the island with her fingers, right by the mouse of the laptop causing Tommy to quickly glance up “Right mum, anything else?” his voice was one of monotone curiosity, a smidge of worry maybe while foreign hands tapped at the keyboard and lightly shook the mouse around which he quickly swatted away, not breaking eye contact. “Your aunt would like you to go over there and help her pack up, since Tubbo is staying with us for a while he can go along with you” and Tommy panned, hands stretched out in front of him before glancing back, resting his chin on his shoulder “Big T, would you want to go...” and he watched his expression change from quick thinking to wide eyed excitement “sure! When are we going?”  
  


In the week they had set for preparation they’d packed suitcases and bags full of things they’d need while staying away from immediate civilisation, not that the small village itself wasn’t enough for them but as the house was described more and more, he’d picked up on some finer details. It was well up the road from the village, during the daytime probably no more than a short stroll up the hill framed in stone fences and wild grown shrubbery, past the old roundabout with one of those decorated abstract centrepieces and over the old rusted bridge hovering above a deep dug ditch but during the night where he couldn’t see what was right in front of his face?  
It was more like a trek through a horror where the only lights around were the ones of the old house, the soft orange tinted glow in the distant homes past the tree line and least comfortingly, the small bright eye-irritating lights that would line the roads and driveway all throughout the night, he’d bet with Tubbo on the smaller and more finicky details.  
  
Another thing was the actual state of the house itself, especially now with the snow blanketing everything in their immediate area they’d need to do a lot of work on the house to make it presentable; Their aunt wanted to sell it after all, as they talked over the phone they’d begun to understand why. The house was in a horrible state, too much work for her to fix on her lonesome so instead she’d chosen to probably sell it by the end of Winter. His aunt had chosen to avoid going into detail on what had specifically happened to the house.  
His uncle packed into his bags in the living room, all bland, course to the touch and grey or black in colour, some empty to help carry more things from the house, it was all Tommy could think about in the upcoming days till they were to leave.  
  
He’d been packing, stuffing down a stack of shirts and putting his whole body into crushing them down into a compactable square when the information was quite suddenly sprung on him, a sort of cautionary warning, his uncle called it, and he’d handed him a photo. The house burned down a while back, If he knew how he wouldn’t have to ask. Fluttering sparks of ash and ember burning the upper portion of the house a pitch dusty black colour, the entire outer area around the building scorched and trees growing up higher past the house’s roof leaving the building shrouded under their drooping leaves, ground dry and accented in thistles sprouting haphazardly out around the outer walls just beneath the window sills, the lower half of the building seemed to be moderately safer, there’d be trash around that they’d have to clean up, he was told stories of the teenagers that would show up and cause trouble from time to time but nothing truly drastic, ghost stories and the sort really; Maybe some empty beer cans.  
  


“Boys, the gate is closed, could one of you go and open it for me?” Tommy looked wide-eyed around, not that there was much to see through a window covered in frost and instantly hopped up in his seat as much as the seatbelt would let him move. He'd called out to his uncle, crawling his hand over the top of the seat to tap his uncle’s shoulder “I’ll go do it!” before Tubbo could get a word out or even react, zipping up his coat up past his clavicles and standing up halfway to his Adam's apple, it wasn’t even as much cold as it was windy and uncomfortably still in a way.  
He wasn’t even sure if there was internet at the house, of course he’d try but before he left he wrote texts to all his pals on Discord, maybe some of them were a little over the top but it was the thought of not streaming for so long that worried him, Tubbo tried to reconcile with the fact by calling it a necessary break for the both of them and they nodded on it.  
  
He’d hopped out of the vehicle in joyous excitement to finally stretch his legs, one of the downsides of being tall was the constant pain he’d get being stuck sitting for prolonged spans of time, not that he’d ever stop streaming for such a stupid reason alone. clipping the end of his shoe against the door caused him to tumble forwards and catch himself on the outer wall of the property spanning as far out as the trees grew to the dirt road that separated from the main one, Tubbo hopped from one seat to another and stuck his head out of the vehicle. “Tommy are you okay?” and Tommy laughed back in response, awakening the resting birds hiding above the canopies of the trees.  
“Yeah, Tubbo there’s so much snow!” and stomped his shoes into it, the feeling of wet socks edging into the _‘oh no’_ territory and he briskly followed up the path and wall before reaching the gate; bars of metal covered in shrubbery and ivy that crawled up its entirety to the point were seeing through it was near impossible.  
  
He slinked his hand past the pure block wall of shrivelled up green and brown, fingers felt around the inner side of the fence for a latch to open it, grasping cold metal and flipping it up, flicking it away where it swerved back around and clanked against its underside. He held his hands up and pushed his elbows back as the gate creaked lightly, stopped by the snow before Tommy dived body first into it with his arms out to catch himself. He heard the car door snap back closed as he pushed it open to its entirety, this was the type of gate you’d see at the entrance of some posh private school, behind the leaves was an intricate and delicate weave of metals, hard to make out by sight but he felt the engravings of the bars beneath the palms of his hands.  
  


He stood back and brushed both snow and old leaves alike off of his hands as the car drove into the premise and up the winding hill, he shook his head in surprise, screaming after them, swearing and laughing as he chased from behind after the car as Tubbo’s face popped up from the back window taunting him silently, a wide toothy smile before his face disappeared from the window and he held up his bee bag. When the car finally stopped Tommy was lightly winded, sharp breath snaking out of his lips like puffs of cigar smoke and burning his lungs as he hunched over and laughed.  
Tubbo hopped out of the car and laughed as he cradled the bee under one arm, the other one on Tommy’s shoulder which was quickly shrugged off.  
They both glanced up as his uncle got out of the car with both suitcases and bags in hand, dragging behind him and leaving lines in the snow up to and under the porch. A whole veranda spanning the length of the left side’s wall opening up into an old abandoned garden, the building itself towering before them.  
  
They’d seen taller buildings before of course but not of this grandeur or style, it lacked the flat rectangular shape that a block of flats would usually have, the steps of the porch leading to an old wide door; looked to be Sapele, smooth coats of lacquer covering it’s every corner causing it to reflect its engravings gently in the setting light as dusk began to creep above. The boys popped open the boot of the car, dragging out their things and dropping them onto the ground in light thumps before they actually got the chance to look around. The entire back of the house was covered over in a thick field of trees and stumps, the stone wall didn’t actually lead all around the building and instead faded some halfway into a shorter wooden fence that clearly needed fixing, rails hanging down on one side and dragging the pickets down along with them.

where they’d ran out of pickets or where the fence broke the most was an excessive amount of chicken wire, wrapped around the posts like little towers in the dirt about two to three times before dragging out to the next post and so on. He’d go exploring later past the fence where the trees caved in like a rounded ceiling holding out a majority of the snow or where he saw something rustling in the bushes, be it a bird or something much more interesting. Tubbo pulled out a small wireback notebook and flipped it open, reading off what information they had been told on the way to the village before arriving. It was quite simple in design, there was a roundabout but lacked any on the way to the house but it didn’t have any centrepiece that they could laugh at, instead it was a flat blanket of snow and a few bird tracks.  
There was a bridge and a deep ditch with a small stream of slow-moving water on the way there but it was just an ordinary bridge, the colour of a rusty orange whose paint had chipped away over the years. The village itself was much more interesting to them but they hardly got a glimpse of it while driving the other direction, the way from their new home to the village was either to go around up the dirt road and onto the main street, past where the ditch ended and over the bridge or skid down into the ditch and try to manoeuvre over the wet rocks and finicky roots that stuck out from the lower parts of the ditch, big enough to grab onto and haul yourself on but short enough that slipping would cause you to look like you’d had a mud bath.  
  
Either way there were probably spiders down there and whatever else would choose to live in such a place, of course due to Winter the chances of spiders were low to none but when it came to, Tommy wasn’t too keen on trying to get past it on the first day. All they had seen from the village was a line of homes, dirty brick and scraped off moss, everything painted in the muted colours of a museum painting and a singular broken down open backed truck with wood blocks instead of tires.  
  


They looked back at the gate at the bottom of the spanning hill as it slowly dragged back, gaining a bit of momentum while closing and jumping back as it hit the latch before finally settling, both car tracks and fence lines dragging through the snow and separating it into sections, something like leaf piles in Autumn. Tubbo excitedly flipped his notebook in Tommy’s face, on the pages were doodles of bees as well as an underlined note causing him to slump his shoulders.  
“There’s a bee place in this small village?” he nodded his head with vigour, closing his notebook and dropping it back into his striped bag. “It’s a rural apiary, that means there are happy bees!” and he grabbed the handle of his suitcase, catching the bottom with his shoe while dragging the handle out to full length. Tommy did the same, both trudging through the snow as his uncle was almost finished with taking everything out of the car “Tubbo its Winter, so we won’t be seeing any bees” he looked up at him with a slight frown and eyebrows knitted together “ _aww,_ but we can still get honey!”  
  
His uncle called the boys inside, the door now swung wide open and held open by a lone shoe, looked to be quite fancy like a gentleman’s shoe; who here would get a knighthood? Tubbo vocally pointed it out and Tommy shrugged it off; It was a simple dress shoe, a faded brown leather and tight wrung shoelaces. It looked so completely out of place that it was charming, seemingly this entire house looked out of place; not like an old lady would live here but college students or maybe his aunt was really just a hoarder, not that he’d have the guts to ask. An old coat rack stood to their right covered in coats ranging from size and colour, after the car was closed and locked Tubbo picked up the shoe and closed the door, lightly setting it back down by its pair.  
They both shed their layers of coats and winter shoes, throwing their coats over the rack and lining their shoes at the entrance as to not spread the snow around, Tommy grabbing a pair of simple inside shoes while Tubbo pulled out an oversized pair of pink pig slippers, a tail on the back of each one that trailed behind him as he stomped around.  
“What are those?” Tommy laughed, grabbing his stomach as he wheezed while Tubbo chuckled to himself, lifting his knee up to inspect the slipper on his foot closer, holding it up with his hands and threatening to tip back onto the stairs in the corridor.

They looked around the corridor and curiously picked around at the shelves, most of them empty or just full of dust or crumbled up receipts and papers. The floor had scratch lines leading from the door into the kitchen, probably someone dragging furniture in or out; the walls were cleared of photos or paintings but the nails and screws remained to be pulled out. Beneath Tommy’s feet was a simple welcome mat, bright red not at all fitting to the style of the room that was comprised of greens, browns and an icky yogurt cream colour that seemingly every house had. Above their heads were old wooden beams, the marks of charred wood present but not enough to make charcoal out of them, slightly discoloured but other than that didn’t seem to be too out of place.  
Tommy caught a glance to the left; cobwebs littered the ceiling and he shuttered. Tubbo placed his bag down on the top of a slightly pink hued shoe rack, someone here really must have liked the colour pink.  
  


There was a soft hum of the wind and Tommy felt cold in the face, nose reddening like holly and teeth chattering as he stood there shaking. He grabbed a red scarf and felt it in his hands for a moment, fingers tracing the weave and it felt almost like it was hand woven, Tubbo must have felt the cold too because he quickly came up to grab the tail of Tommy’s scarf and hold it up to his face, almost like the house itself creaked and groaned, laughing at their unexpected arrival before they heard a window slam closed from the direction of the kitchen. “Sorry boys, we need to air out before someone here gets an asthma attack” and Tommy unwrapped the scarf, holding it up to his face like a mask “ _Tubbooo_ ” he coughed out a quick accent, lengthening the word as he spoke “ _Tubboo-_ ” and he replied with a quick “What?” waiting for Tommy to reply.

“Big T I’m hungry let's go eat” he wiggled his eyebrows before tilting his head in the direction of the kitchen, Tubbo grabbed the top of the scarf away from Tommy and carefully folded it in his hands before placing it down on the shoe rack, grabbing his bag and flinging it up on his shoulder “Let's go then” and strutted forwards, one leg in front of the other such as a march in a joking manner. Tommy followed behind quickly, they stepped into the kitchen and looked around at the immediate size of just it alone.  
“I thought you boys would never come in, I was sure you found the lake” Tommy bound up to the table, pulling out a chair and resting his sky-blue bag on it, lightly hopping from foot to foot “There’s a lake?” his Uncle dragged his hand over his eyes “Why did I even say anything, yes there is a lake out back but I forbid you two from going-” Tommy’s expression widened into disbelief, then a pout “And why not?” Tubbo took his time looking through the shelves for any food to eat, grabbing some slices of bread from the bread bin that stood up against the fridge, finding jam inside and laying it all out on the closest counter. “Because there’s ice there and I don’t want you getting hurt, me and your aunt are responsible for you two now." Tommy squinted, really taking in his uncle’s details that he had no chance to do before, _yes_ , they were his family but it’s not like he’d met them until a few weeks ago, he hadn’t even met his aunt face to face yet.  
  


“Your aunt is currently in the village for shopping, she’ll be back in a couple of hours and I have to drive back for a few more things” He grabbed his car keys off of the table, stuffing them into one of the pockets of his coat and zipping up “I hope you two don’t get in any trouble while we’re gone, also could one of you come back outside to open the gate for me again?” Tommy looked away in that sort of feign anger while Tubbo bound up to them with a sandwich in his mouth, he took a quick bite and swallowed, a sort of thump noise leaving his throat before coughing “I could open the gate Sir” and he walked back into the corridor leaving Tommy and his uncle “Don’t do anything rash okay? This house isn’t used to you yet” and Tommy’s expression rested on a line, biting the inside of his cheek “ _Houses don’t get used to people-_ ” and his uncle ruffled his hair, “Well this house is special.”  
  
Tubbo quickly came back wrapped in his winter coat, fake fur lining the collar and framing his round cheeks, tangling with his hair; the sandwich eaten. “Hey Tommy, I thought you were the hungry one” before walking back to the door with his Uncle in tow, dipping their feet into warm fluffy shoes and stepping out into the cold causing Tommy to momentarily shake. He Muttered to himself angrily, sulking as he stalked around the kitchen “I _am_ hungry-” He pulled out a single slice of bread from the bread bin and looked at it, brown bread would be perfect with some butter right now if he could locate it, and maybe some tea. He reached up into one of the shelves filled with mugs and glasses, randomly grabbing one out and putting it down on the counter. “World's best dad?” he looked at the mug, turning it around carefully in his hands before putting it back down again, moving his hands over the other shelves while on the search for tea; how would he even boil it? No tea kettle in sight, guess it would just have to be done the old-fashioned way.

He located a stash of stacked tea boxes in the back of one of the shelves, easily pulling them closer and picking out a simple earl grey box before pushing the rest back, the tea bag thrown into the mug while the string was dropped onto the outer side beside the smooth pearl-like white handle, reaching back up to place the box back onto it’s neat stack. He sighed and stood back, looking around the kitchen; back at the corridor entrance and on the opposite corner of the same wall was the door to the living room, he walked over and stood with his foot against the door before lightly turning the handle and peeking in. It was definitely smaller in comparison to the majesty of the kitchen but it had its own soft charm, a huge window smack centre on the opposite wall with its drapes old fashioned, tied up and bunched at the centre points but still just almost long enough to grasp the polished wooden floorboards, clear of scratches, the big centrepiece on the ground beneath the polished oak coffee table being a round striped blue and white carpet; it felt more like a sitting room with its many mismatched pieces of furniture, the couch to his right was small and compact yet just big enough that he or Tubbo could fit on it and sleep semi-comfortably. Across from the window sat three chairs all turned slightly in to point at each other, a perfect place for a family to sit and talk; to enjoy the scenery outside as the lower handing tree’s swayed in the wind.

The chair to the left and closest to the window seemed to be the only one that fit in moderately with the rest of the room, black and accented with green sown in details onto the material; now covered in boxes labelled ‘lamps’ and ‘kitchen decoration’, the chair settled in the middle felt more luxurious with its plush yellow cushioning, not a colour he’d choose but stood out nicely, the last chair was simply a kitchen chair whose seat was covered in nail scratches, not even deep but still visible. They dragged from the start of the seat up to the middle point where they became softer and then stopped entirely, like a kid who would mark their seat with tape or claim their spot in some other destructive way, maybe even stress.  
  
Across from the chairs was a small flat television placed upon a tall shelf, glass doors showing empty insides coated in a thin layer of dust and a few old pens stacked up against the inside, toppled on one another. More boxes lined the wall behind the couch of various sizes and colours, most of them dull wet-sandy coloured cardboard, he peeked inside of one placed at the top and reached in, weaving his hand through old gloves and hats, about half of the boxes were marked with an X at the top, the other half were plain; probably the boxes they were planning to throw out. He walked over to the window, resting his head in his hands as he propped himself up on his elbows, digging his knees into the long cushion pushed up against the wall as he watched Tubbo slowly trudge up the snowy path and back to the building before they caught eye contact, Tommy pushed himself away from the window and skid off of the cushion, running out of the room and back into the kitchen before he heard the front door open and shut slowly, the kitchen door was thrown open and there stood a smiling Tubbo like he’d risen from the snow, covered head to toe in the stuff.  
  


“Did you trip into the snow?” and Tubbo shook his head, brushing his fingers through his head before slicking it back “ _maybe-_ ” He held his hands behind his back and rocked back and forth on his heels before grinning and running towards Tommy who in turn raced out towards the back door which was also covered beneath an old porch, looking much more charred as if painted in the ash that befell this place, even the wood beneath their feet didn’t feel as secure as out front and as they bound over it and skipped over the steps it creaked like chalk dragging sharply over a chalkboard, they instead chose racing down through the snowy fields where Tubbo wouldn’t have a chance to catch up, not only could Tommy run more than just decently, he also had the leg length allowing him to swallow strides where Tubbo couldn't follow through his tracks, instead having to harrowingly tread through it himself till they were almost at the wooden fence.  
  
The winds picked up throwing Tubbo down into the snow only catching himself with one arm between his chest and stomach, the other held out under him like he was about to do a push up, Tommy turned back and too was slapped by the strong wind flipping his hair up only to fall back onto his eyes and into his mouth making him sputter it out. “You okay Big-T?” He rushed back, retracing his clear steps in the snow and stumbling half way before catching himself crouching with his hand's flush red against his knees, standing before him as Tubbo tried to get up without falling further into the snow. “ _Yeah_ , just very cold!” He stood up and walked around to his side, dipping his hands under his shoulders and hauling him up so that he could catch his balance and brush off the snow and mud accumulating on his knees and hand which he smeared on Tommy’s jumper sleeve laughing.

Tommy ruffled Tubbo’s hair and brushed the snow from its tips, flipping the hair from his nape up in retribution; they both grabbed onto each other's shoulders and wrestled while tripping up in the snow till both of them were shaking like Autumn leaves, even the lightest of breezes tipping them over, they turned back and ran towards the building avoiding roots and plants sticking up from the ground and slowed down to speed walking when they were by the steps, Tommy rested his hand on Tubbo’s shoulder “I’ll make us tea Big T, you get cleaned up from all this snow-” and they ascended the short three steps to the door, pushing it back open and snapping it closed behind them with the sudden thump. The inside was silent, his uncle nor aunt were back yet and he sighed as the worry lifted from his chest, how long were they even outside?  
  


Tubbo walked past the island and dragged his hand over the counter, stopping at the door to the corridor “I don’t think there’s any bathrooms down here, I’ll try upstairs” and nodded to Tommy, he nodded back and held up his thumb in affirmation before searching the kitchen for a kettle or pan to boil the water with as well as some butter for the bread he’d left out on the counter, probably a bit dry by now but better than dipping into his snack supply so early on. He looked under one of the bottom shelves and pulled out a kettle, seemingly brand new and clean.  
He pulled it up and placed it in the sink filling it up with water, closing the shelf with his foot while plugging the kettle into the wall; he tensed his fingers and jumped at the static that nipped at him. He turned away and plugged the kettle into a different socket, flicking the switch to see if this one would work; the kettle flashed red and he turned back smiling to pull out another mug and tea bag, the mug he had pulled out was accented in the many different ways of swearing, not only in English but languages such as French and Spanish too.

He watched the kettle begin to steam, fogging up the main kitchen window and Tommy tried to make out the drawings and marks done on the glass, small hellos and smiley faces with tongues sticking out at each other, a cartoonish middle finger beneath one as well as a note for flowers lining the bottom corner. Seems nobody had bothered to wipe over the window in a while, or maybe these were more recent than he thought? He heard the sound of the kettle finishing and lifted it up, he pulled a small spoon out of one of the smaller bottom shelves and poured the water into the cups, watching the tea gain colour as he slowly mixed with the spoon. There was sugar on the counter which he pulled over, grabbing two spoon fulls for Tubbo’s and three for his, mixing it all together before pulling out the teabags. there was a black trash bag beneath the sink, not even a proper bin and he swiftly flung them in there, he turned back to the fridge and pulled out the remainder of the milk; pouring it in for Tubbo.  
  
The fog from the window began to clear, instead replaced by frost crawling up from its edges like cracks in a screen and he lightly traced his fingers along one side as he leaned forwards. There was a tap on the front door, thump thump in a sort of musical tempo and he dropped the spoon in the sink, this was finally his chance to meet his aunt. He grabbed the door handle and he paused, another soft thump thump before speaking up “who’s there?” no clear response, just whistling of the wind and he lightly pushed it open, peaking around the side to see that nobody was there. He pulled the door back and closed it slowly, stepping back and speed walking into the kitchen to grab his and Tubbo’s tea, he walked back through the corridor and up the stairs, thick and stable, dark wood and a railing accented in carvings to go along with it, sticky notes lining the bars going up its side.


	2. / Old Upstairs

He stood at the centre of the upper main area, feet tipping back onto the first step of the stairs in uncertainty as he looked around. The floor was lined in strips of old stained carpet the colour of milk tea. He swished the liquid of the mugs he was holding around, watching as rings swayed back and forth lining the inner part of the mug. Doors of all different types lined the second floor, primarily sapele which seemed to be the go-to for the house itself, one door lightly swinging off its hinges and smeared in hand marks from paint.  
More smiley faces and little hellos crawling up its top panels in the colours of pink, a lime green and yellow as the ash of burned wood inked down from the top rail as well as more sticky notes on the wall beside it, some reminders to grab food and some plans to pack away things into the attic above.

He slowly placed the mugs down on a desk out against the outer railing that followed along and past the stairs, it had probably been pulled out of its room quite recently; drag marks still fresh in the carpet that he quickly brushed away with his foot, drawing swirls in the carpet instead. The desk was cluttered with folders that stood propped up against a backdrop thick wood block, looked to be hammered on quite crudely from the back yet sanded down to near perfection.  
  


He grabbed one of the bigger folders, lean and thin with holographic shine; all filled with papers and sticky notes, quickly flicking through them and pressing his fingers between the corner of one of the plastic pockets. The rest of the desk overflowing with many different boxes and trash bags, one full of old shirts with a sticker slapped onto the outside marked with ‘store in attic’ and an amp box pushed to the back behind a stack of board game boxes. Monopoly and uno crashing down at his feet as he tried to carefully push them to the side, he scooped up all he could off of the floor and threw it back into their respective containers.

He pulled the amp forwards and huffed at its unexpected heaviness, grabbing the top handle and carefully letting one side tip off from under the desk. He ran his fingers over the mesh like front cover, small and orange in colour; quite cold to the touch.  
“ohhh, there could be a guitar here!” and he hopped up from his spot cross-legged on the ground.

He walked over to the first door on his left past the desk and where it was probably dragged out of, pushing it open and almost tripping on the carpet, a corner of it pulled up and dragged down across the wall revealing beneath it old dusty wood and the heads of beat in nails.  
  


It wasn’t such a spacious room that he walked into, generally taller than wide allowing him to stare up at where the ceiling slanted at an angle and small pieces of ripped tape hung off its coarse surface, probably from posters; with a singular window on the outer wall stretching almost the entire wall’s length, something like a hotel back in London. A smaller window situated up on the ceiling and a pole up against the corner of the room for opening and closing it, curved like a hook at the end.  
The room was mostly grey and yellow in colour, lacking that icky yogurt hue for its walls like the corridors outside and instead going for a nice warm tone, something akin to a sunflower. It wasn’t lost on him that the furthest edges of the ceiling were dyed ash grey, this was as far as the fire had spread.

He stepped over to the bed, the duvet spread cleanly over its surface covering over the corners and sides in length, it was green and velvety to the touch yet still covered in a small coating of dust which he quickly brushed away with a couple of flicks from his wrist before sitting down on it. He sunk down into it and he sluggishly pressed himself up back into sitting, the pillows all pushed up into the corner against the wall, it was a small bed but a tad longer; at its end were more boxes, bigger this time and he lunged over to the bed’s end to go through it, hoping to find a guitar.  
He searched through the entire box; an electric keyboard packed securely into its box with all the other things it probably came along with as well as a hand stapled thin stack of papers atop it, which he too snooped through, just a bunch of old music from a few years back; he even recognised a few names.

There was a spot in the wall across from the boxes where the carpet stopped and laid crumpled up in waves, a rectangular opening where the carpet was a lighter colour and its back wall seeped in with a light splotch of discolouration like running water.  
He pushed himself off of the bed and smoothed out the duvet, he looked around the rest of the room and then dipped down to look under the bed and his fingers curved around soft somewhat fluffy material, he pulled back with his arm outstretched and held a guitar case in his lap, he inspected it before popping it open in a rush, before him sat an acoustic guitar.  
  


“ _huh?_ Wait but there was an amp, there must be an electric one too-” he laid the guitar back down on the floor and continued his search for another guitar yet none came.  
He huffed, sitting back till Tubbo’s face peeked around the door and then back down at the carpet “Tommy did you do this?” Tommy stood up and shook his arms at his sides “WHAT, no!” and Tubbo laughed, walking into the room with the red of his face fading into a softer peachier pink.

“You found a guitar?” and tubbo held it up in his hands, pulling it to his chest as he sat to strum a few choice strings, cords flowing from it like a twinge of a banjo “ _oh-_ guess it needs to be tuned” and Tommy solemnly nodded his head, that grumpy pout returning to his face as he stared out through the window, resting back against the wall. “I found an amp box but no electric guitar, maybe it’s in the attic!” He turned back and Tubbo watched him sprint out of the room with the carpet kicking up beneath his feet, he quickly placed the guitar back into its case and laid it down on the bed before running back to Tommy. He watched as Tommy rested his hand around the mug, checking the heat before downing its entirety in a few big gulps.  
“No time to drink, got to get up to the attic” and Tubbo walked over, picking up his mug with more care and taking a small sip, “We should wait till your aunt or uncle come back, I don’t even see a way up there”.  
  


Tommy walked over to the next room on the left, the door open and brushing against the carpet. It was the bathroom; the walls were painted a muted mint green and on the right wall were similarly minty tiles.  
It had a small room compartment with a few odd left-over things but was mostly cleared out, the basin a simple pearly white while the countertop around it was covered in a cracked white and navy-blue chequered pattern spreading all around from the basin over to the wall near the door, a hair-dryer lay on its side surrounded by shampoos and a spare tub of plain toothpaste.

Tubbo ran back into the corridor and swerved down the stairs in a few hops till he was gone behind the railing and desk, instead Tommy played with the plastic cup that sat before him with a few toothbrushes and a half empty tub of minty toothpaste.  
He looked up at the mirror and quickly shook the remaining snow from his hair that hadn’t melted yet, flipping the tips at the front up and over his eyebrow as he separated the parts, standing back and closing his eyes; nodding at his clean-up job well done.

He looked back up at the mirror to take up the view from the back of the bathroom, a bath and shower combo running the entire length of the wall till where a section of wall jutted out near the toilet and window, glass fogged up and a frowny face staring right back at him, someone here really liked drawing on windows.

He turned back to the mirror, shower curtains like you’d see at your nan’s over the weekend, the hue of an apricot accented over with the printed-on pattern of wild windflowers; especially that stain splotch of pink right on the flower design, he blinked once, then again twice before staring back around at the curtain with the blotch and face gone, he raced out of the bathroom shrieking at the top of his lungs; banging the door closed the second he was out.  
  


Tubbo raced back up the stairs in a panicked frenzy, holding his bee bag under one arm while the other held his toothbrush up like a weapon; clearing around the room as Tommy stood before him with his hands at his jacket collar.  
“Hey Tommy, did you see a spider in there?” he chuckled looking back at a wide-eyed Tommy shaking his head and clenching his jaw from embarrassment. “Then what did you see?” Tommy snapped back, determination of his seen certainty burning into his features yet not covering the quivering in his frame and shoulders.

“I saw a person in there through the mirror, they had long pink hair-” Tubbo held down his toothbrush and looked around Tommy and back at the bathroom door, then back at Tommy continuing to do this a couple more times till Tommy coughed “There’s nobody in this house other than us?” he scoffed “Well at first, I thought it was a stain on the shower curtain, really ugly-” he paused, thinking through his words before Tubbo interrupted with “ _Well_ I saw no stain on the curtain or the mirror, you say you saw pink hair? I don’t think there was anything pink in there.”

Tommy shuffled to the side and provided him the entry to the bathroom, a sweeping motion of his hands in its direction as if beckoning Tubbo forwards to test Tommy’s resolve in what he had seen. He squared up his shoulders and walked over from the stairs and up to Tommy before pulling the handle down and opening it just a smidge, checking around the bathroom and whispering “Either this pink haired man is hiding in our shower or you really just imagined it.”  
There was a pause before he pulled the door back closed, Tommy burst through and pulled away the curtain, it was empty, a singular bar of soap at the bottom and no pink haired man in sight allowing him to huff in relief and hold his hand to his chest, Tubbo held up his backpack and he took it.

He paused, looking over “You went to grab our things?” Tubbo shrugged, dropping his toothbrush into the cup, a bumble bee design that went right next to tommy’s plain red and white one.  
“I wanted to get settled in, y’know?” they pulled open the cupboard beneath the basin and found the toilet paper, Tommy taking a roll and dropping it on the window stool and going to close it with his foot when Tubbo’s hand stopped him, pushing it back open.  
“you found something cool Big T?” and Tubbo stood up, looking down at a rectangular box in his hand before pressing it to his chest in contemplation till he looked over at Tommy “Pink hair, yeah?” Tommy nodded, voicing his confusion “ _uh,_ yeah.” Tubbo turned the box over and held it before him, pink hair dye; they stared up at each other till Tommy grabbed it out of his hand and flung it back into the cupboard, slamming it closed while Tubbo was halfway down the stairs screaming.  
  


He sprinted out of the bathroom and slammed it again behind him, the door shook lightly and the light on the ceiling shook with it, flickering twice before evening out and shining normally; not that he paid it any mind as he rounded out the corner on the stairs, grabbing onto the start of the railing as he turned his body allowing him to fling forwards over the first couple of steps before doing a half fall shuffle down the rest, banging his heels a fair bit on the way down till he reached the last railing and shot back around into the kitchen where he crashed into Tubbo.  
He caught himself on the open door and felt it slowly fall back under their combined body weight, hand letting go of the ridge causing them to tumble into the front counter with little momentum or the chance to breathe. Tubbo pressed his hands to his eyes and huffed, out of breath from the speed run they both did to get downstairs as well as his shriek of ghost born horror, Tommy not in too different of a situation as he turned over and rested his back; holding his knees up to his chest as he glared around the room, the glassy squeak of glass screeching above their heads.

He looked up over the side of the counter, fingers tensed as they gripped the edge and the glass began to clear in sharp scratchy lines as if drawn with the nails.  
‘ _l E A v E_ ’ Tommy’s face blanked, blue and white and maybe a little bit green, body quivering and the cold seeping into his bones; his hair brushed to the side with a fleeting gust of frost-bitten wind, the type you’d only catch early in the mornings, so soft you could mistake it for a caress as it bristled and thumped against the window, the text disappearing with it in a flush of new frost and fog before a quick ‘sorry!’ messily appeared in its place.

Not that it made him feel any better with the fact that the house had a ghost problem and he was half tempted to just turn the other way and leave, not before grabbing Tubbo with him of course. He tried to swallow the spit in his mouth but it caught in his throat, scratching at it like a dull knife.  
Tubbo sat looking up beside him, his shoulders tucked in as he kept his distance behind Tommy and he quivered “ _W-w-_ who are you?” his voice cracked, hoarse and trembling as he tried to put on his more confident façade in the face of the ghosts, plural because why would a ghost apologise for its own haunting?  
The Window once again was softly thumped by the wind, cleared to smooth writeable perfection drawing at it like a frosted haze. The ghost started at the top corner slowly tracing to the right and then trickled down when it needed more space, small delicate marks meant to calm them down?  
Tommy slowly stood up as Tubbo tried to reach up for his shoulders and drag him back into the quick safety of hiding behind the counter, maybe even hiding in a cupboard if it was necessary.  
  


Tommy lightly waved his hand away and stood to his regular height, straightening his back and usually terrible posture causing his back to creek and shoulders to roll at his sides, shaking voice clearly reading out what was on the window. “well, my name is Phil, and with me right now is Techno-” he paused his reading, waiting for the ghost to catch up as it rushed for a second, smearing something away in the text before continuing “We used to live here, your names are Tubbo and Tommy, right?”

Tubbo peeked up once more and asked “how do you know our names?” and the writing paused once again before a different text begun fresh beneath it, the handwriting sharper and more jagged “We heard you talking to each other” And Tommy pressed his folded arms to his chest “So this is Techno talking? What kind of a name is Techno..”  
Tubbo jabbed him in the leg “Ow! Right fine, who’s talking next?” and began the next text, a frown face accenting the end with that tongue sticking out that he had seen from before; Tubbo’s face ghost like in its own way, colour faded and threatening either to cry, scream or faint “Techno still speaking, child-”

Tommy paused reading mid word “I AM NOT A CHILD!” as he begun to name off reasons for his adult-ness, tapping it out on his extended fingers “I am tall, probably taller than you were ‘big man’ _-_ ” Insulting a ghost and testing it like this was probably the last thing to do but it struck a nerve so quickly that he couldn’t help but react, he read off on the window.  
“I had a better temper than you, still do now” Tommy shuffled closer, hands pressed against the counter as he leaned over the sink “Sure you do, ‘big man’” and bag hanging off of his shoulder was dragged back and he dug his heels down into the ground.  
  


Knocking at the door interrupted the exchange, Tommy falling into a pool of limbs at the ground while his backpack cushioned his fall and probably all the snacks in it too, he’d have to check through what could be salvaged later. Tubbo jumped up from the floor, sprinting out to the door and pulling it open. “ _Oh,_ oh hello Tommy how are you? I heard from your mother that you were bringing a friend along, I hope you both didn’t mind waiting for me and settled yourselves in”.  
She nodded happily and held up two big plastic bags, dropping them into his hands and squeezing past him in the door way, brushing off snow from her shoulders as she went; she zipped down her coat and held it in the air, looking for an empty place of the coat hanger as Tubbo shook in the open cold. “Ma'am, excuse me Ma’am but I’m Tommy’s friend-” he hauled the bags up before his arms gave out and he had to rest them on the floor “Tommy is in the kitchen right now, Hey Tommy! Your aunt is here!”

Tommy scrambled to stand and brushed himself down yet he’d still look like a horrified mess, he could blame the loss of over colour in the face on the cold. He pulled off his bag and threw it up onto the table top, walking over to the corridor and quickly standing over by Tubbo, butting shoulders with him before he picked up one of the bags.  
“Oh, Tommy hello! yes now I see it, you do look like your parents, I don’t know how I could get you two mixed up” and she laughed openly while she pulled off her shoes, wheezed and chortled like a man at the pub, full of glee and joy; cheeks rosy pink from makeup making her look all the more friendly, she hunched over and whispered to the boys.

“So, have you met the old ghosts yet?”  
Tubbo’s face fell to worry and his eyebrows raised, he sputtered out his burning breath and stuttered through his words while Tommy only stood silently, already forgotten about the literal spirits probably still lurking in the kitchen. She stood back, tutting as she pulled out a box of hot cocoa from the bag Tubbo was hauling “Oh dear you both look like you’ve really seen a ghost, you boys get yourselves situated in the sitting room all nice and cosy while I make you two some hot chocolate, _mh?”_ and she swiftly turned back, shuffling forwards with big green crocs in tow.  
  


Somehow along the way Tubbo had lost one of his piggy pink slippers while Tommy had kicked off his indoor shoes upstairs in the guitar room and had been sprinting around with only his socks, both looking at each other before shaking their heads, they could always go searching another time.  
Enough mystery encounters for the first day, they stared out through the door’s fogged top window, night already blanketing the sky when they looked outside; not that they noticed it, they were too busy freaking out over a window.

Tommy pulled out a pair of crocs for himself while Tubbo kicked his one slipper off, pulling out a new pair of inside shoes. They dragged the bags into the kitchen, pulling at the handles to the point where one of the threads popped in Tommy’s hand and the material knotted beneath his palm. “ _Oh,_ don’t worry about that bag, I’m constantly fixing the old thing-”  
She placed the cocoa down on the table and already pulled out a mug for Tommy, simple grey and black with a glued-up handle, Tubbo’s tea mug sitting next to it.  
“I cleaned it up, guessing it’s one of yours?” and Tubbo nodded, pulling his bag over to the fridge while Tommy pulled his over to the counter, glancing up at the window; clean of any marks or drawings. “Yes, Ma’am that cup is mine, Tommy left his upstairs.” They paused in awkward silence while unpacking as she continued to talk about the village, the boys edging further away from the window and closer to the table as she spoke.  
She pulled the mugs forwards, picking them up shaking the cocoa inside and walked towards the counter, setting them down with two soft clanks and pouring more water into the kettle to boil. She looked through the window and sighed, grabbing a cloth from a shelf next to the trash bag; quickly wiping down the window. “I hope your uncle’s okay driving back when it’s so dark outside.”

She held her hand to her cheek as she pondered, brushing down the counter with the cloth in the other hand as she stood there quietly. Tubbo’s foot tapped the wooden frame of the mostly foggy glass door and looked to the old couch, the room pulsing with a mental sort of warmth; maybe from the colour and there in lack of palette or maybe from the smell that wafted from the old stone chimney, warm smoky wood and the table in the centre covered in a white lace tablecloth.  
He stepped back into the room while tommy rummaged through his bag, pulling out his phone to check for any damage while Tubbo walked around; fingers dragging over the chimney mantle which was in mint clean condition. His hand hovered over an empty picture frame that was propped up, he picked it up and turned it over to find a bunch of messily scribbled signatures before putting it back.  
  


Tommy turned back to his aunt with phone in hand, waving it in the air as he spoke “ _Um,_ could I borrow a phone charger? I can’t find mine” And he grimaced, not entirely a lie since he knew it was somewhere in one of his bags, he was just too lazy to search for it. She turned back with eyes joyfully bright and shining under the kitchen’s yellow light, “Oh of course! give me a moment and I’ll find it for you-” She turned back, picking up the kettle and pouring the water before dunking in a good few Spoonful's of sugar, a spilled line ran down the side before pooling around its bottom on the counter.  
She picked up the mug and held it out for Tommy to grab while wiping down the counter and pulling over Tubbo’s cup, the heat radiating from the cup made tommy cradle it close to his chest and hiss when his other hand accidentally grazed its other side. He had pocketed his phone and walked over to the table, putting the cup down to pull his phone back out and drop it into his bag; zipping it up and throwing it on over his shoulder before going back to the sitting room with cocoa in hand.

Tubbo was resting on the couch, lounging on it and sinking into one of its corners and he sighed with content; arms spread out and resting on either side behind his head, He blinked before his tired eyes fluttered open, his bee bag tucked beneath the coffee table and lap covered over in a thin brown blanket that he’d brought along.  
Tommy threw his backpack against the opposite corner of the couch, turning around and falling onto the couch with a light bounce. He rested his head back and took in the smell of the room more clearly, cocoa in hand that he took a quick sip of and slurped it down causing Tubbo to snicker beside him. “Hey Big T, should we tell them about, uh..-” and Tubbo looked up at the ceiling pondering, a quick “not now, maybe later” and they both nodded their heads in agreement.

Tommy’s aunt quickly rushed through the door, lightly nudging it open with her elbow as both her hands were full with foamy bubbling cocoa and the smell encompassed the room past the smell of cold outside, and of the old furniture that filled up the space around them. She put down Tubbo’s mug on the table which he quickly lunged out of his corner in the couch to pick up, sitting back and holding it over the small blanket before too taking a quick sip. Tommy looked over and back at Tubbo, upper lip and cupid’s bow covered with brown foam which he moved around like a moustache causing the boys to burst out laughing.  
His Aunt had pulled over of the old chairs that was pushed up in the corner and sat down, taking a sip and she warmed her hands and looked over at the window. It was probably nearing to midnight and yet no light had shone down the snowy hill path, past the cobbled walls and overgrown fence of the old property hardly anything could be seen other than what they could make out from the moon’s faint silvery sheen.  
  


Tubbo had moved over to the centre of the couch, resting his shoulder against Tommy’s as they finished off their cocoa and put their mugs down, Tommy grabbed the small blanket and tugged at one of the corners causing Tubbo to flick his hand in an attempt to swat him away.  
“Get your own blanket, this one’s mine!” Tommy tugged over to his side once more, “You should share it big man” and he pulled it up causing it to fall over his shoulder like a cape. Tubbo went to go grab at it when Tommy’s aunt laughed lightly and stood up, the chairs legs creeking causing the boys to glance over.  
“I’ll go grab more blankets, you two wait here” and before either boy could protest, she’d shuffled out of the room, soft thuds drawing up the stairs till they could hear footsteps above. Tubbo had lightly pulled his blanket back and wrapped it around his waist, tucking it in like a thick soft belt.

Tommy huffed and grabbed one of the pillows, made of a weird itchy to the skin material and tucked it behind his back as he rested; yawning as he stretched his hands up and Tubbo echoed his yawn. He untucked the blanket belt and pulled it over both of their laps before resting his head down on Tommy’s shoulder, hiding the side of his face into the sleeve as he’d sniffled; cold slowly but clearly getting to both of them.

Tommy held his hands clenched on his lap, looking around the room before Tubbo spoke up. “Are you not tired Tommy?” and he flexed his fingers, scratching at the material of his pants. “Not really, just thinking” He took in a deep breath and yawned it out, rubbing at his eye before looking down at Tubbo’s messy mop of strewn about brunette locks.  
“You should sleep if you’re tired”, Tubbo rubbed at his neck “ _Nah,_ we have to keep look out, what if one of the ghosts comes back?” and they both tensed their shoulders at the memory from only a couple of hours ago. “They’re probably with us here right now, listening..” And Tommy tilted his body to the side, resting his elbow down on the arm rest of the couch causing Tubbo to stir lightly.  
  


Tubbo tucked his hands at his sides and a clump of hair fell over Tommy’s shoulder, blocking out his vision slightly as fell into sleep. It wasn’t quick, rather more gradual as Tubbo’s smile began to fall limp from his face and his eyes remained closed for longer and longer till he all but breathed lightly. Tommy sat back as comfortably as he could, waiting for his aunt to come back and bring them something warmer that they could get wrapped up in.  
He wanted to grab the other pillow on Tubbo’s side and over his shoulder but he didn’t want to wake him up so quickly after he’d fallen alseep, instead he nestled himself up in the corner as he watched the tree’s outside wave and turn in the Winter wind; he dug his elbow further into the armrest and rested his chin up on his hand.

He looked at the corner of the window, a small and clean “Good night, sleep well” crawled up in the way of the frost before too fading away from sight with a soft thud of the wind; he huffed and let himself close his eyes. A cold breeze tickled his nose and he sneezed lightly, rubbing at it with the sleeve of his shirt till he’d forgotten when he fell asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> This story was inspired by @WolfyTheWitch on Twitter / it isn't exactly identical and some story details are different but I mostly dipped into this person's AU for ghost headcanon details and character inspiration with a heavy rural British village aesthetic. It will be just a smidge angsty, after all them's be ghosts- It will mostly be dorky haunting and found family though :)


End file.
